My wolf howled with outrage.
That was what I called it.
Because I refused to believe that there was something else lurking inside my body, begging to break free.
I was bad.
A monster.
My own mate had told me I was too heavy to lie on her after I’d licked her dry, after I’d pleasured her.
If someone who loved me was afraid of me, of the way I looked in the steamy throes of sex, of the way my fangs pointed differently than others of my kind, of the way I asked if I could bite her — begged her even…
Then where did that leave Serenity?
A stranger.
Where did that leave me and my place in the world?
I punished myself well for my monsters.
I just never realized there would come a day when they wouldn’t recede, when they wouldn’t listen — when I suddenly wouldn’t care if they broke free and destroyed me and everyone else around me.
The longer I stayed in that spot…
Staring at that blood…
The longer I thirsted beyond all reason.
And the longer I wanted to lick the blood dry then turn my attention three inches down Serenity’s neck where her pulse sang.
“Mason…” My name fell like a whisper from her lips. “…calm down.”
“Never—” I clenched my hands into fists as claws started breaking through my skin. “—tell a wolf to calm down when he is angry.”
She pressed a hand to my shoulder.
I didn’t jerk away. My body instantly calmed. I frowned down at the blood. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make it go away?”
“I don’t understand?” She moved her hand.
The rage returned.
Adrenaline pumped through my system.
Run. I need to run.
Before I could think any more about the blood, about her touch, about what any of it meant, I turned on my heel and ran out of the house.
Through the trees.
Picking up speed.
Until my wolf broke free.